Page 38

Chapter 38

You Will Be a Goddess

ONE YEAR AGO

T hump.

Thump.

Thump.

Sylzenya dug her fingers deeper into the damp soil, the golden light of her goddess’ power trailing wide circles around her wrists, up her forearms, and slicing deep into the soft flesh of her back. Cold sweat dripped from her brow, trailing down her nose and watering the earth as a green sprout rose from the dirt.

“This is your last creation for the day,” the High One announced, “Yet it should be just as fresh and sturdy as your first. Do not cease until it is so.”

Sylzenya pressed her palms with more force, her arm muscles aching. Green leaves pushed out from the ground. A golden trail of light spun around the leaves, guiding them upward, raising them to the sky. Green gave way to brown, soft bark cracking into place, forming a tall treek trunk. Awe filled Sylzenya’s lungs as bright green fronds burst from the top of the trunk, yellow light sparking outwards and filling the sky with what looked like stars. Lush shade hid away the sun.

“Very good, Sylzenya,” the High One said, his bare feet stopping in front of her, his pale skin glowing against the gold power. “You may cease.”

Sylzenya released her hands, her goddess’ power retreating into the dirt. Her third willow of the day was complete.

“I tried something new,” Sylzenya said, the warm blood from her cut seeping into her white robe, “I produced more leaves than the one from this morning. I wanted the acolytes to have more shade when they practice.”

The High One smiled as he touched the soft green leaves. “I dare say you succeeded.”

The willow stood tall in the temple’s garden, providing shade on a patch of grass overlooking a small pond filled with water lilies and silver fish. Bright sunshine gave way to a crimson red evening, a soft breeze brushing along her skin, stinging the open wound on her back.

“Let’s see your stone.”

Sylzenya obeyed, pulling away the dirt that surrounded the willow’s trunk. A yellow glow fought through the soil, lighting her eyes once she dug far enough to retrieve it. Carefully, she wrapped her fingers around it, the once clear stone now pulsing with a yellow light.

“Your Kreena Rite is only one year away. Has it truly been nine years already?” he asked.

Sylzenya smiled as she joined him, the water’s smooth surface broken by fish splashing, sending ripples across the pond. The orodyte glowed in her hand, its sharp edges pricking her skin.

“Of course not, Your Grace. I’m still a youngling of fourteen years with twin plaits in my hair and dirt rubbed on my nose.”

The High One laughed. “A day I will never forget.”

Her smile fell at the High One’s words.

“You still miss your parents, Sylzenya?”

“Of course not, Your Grace,” Sylzenya replied with a feigned smile, a sharp sting running along her cut.

“Not often do you lie to me, but when you do, it’s clear. Ever since the day you stole that plum and blamed the squirrels years ago, I’ve known.”

“The squirrels did steal them, I swear,” she urged, a small laugh leaving her mouth.

He laughed with her, their voices filling the night air.

“I am sorry, Your Grace,” she finally said, smoothing her white robe.

“The squirrels will forgive you,” he jested.

“Squirrels might, but will you?”

The High One’s wrinkles deepened as his brow furrowed. “My life is lonely, Sylzenya. It’s not often that I think about family. When I do, it’s of our priestesses, our Kreenas, and our acolytes. That is my family, and so it’s been yours these last nine years. We must remain as such.”

She rubbed the pad of her finger along the sharp edges of the orodyte.

He continued. “To have your parents dismiss your wishes and leave you at the temple all those years ago… It’s never an obligation for a child to remain here, and yet they did so anyways. It was selfish of them. Cruel. This is how you feel about them, is it not?”

“I feel no such things, Your Grace,” Sylzenya replied, the ache in her back growing as she closed her hand around the orodyte. “It would not be our goddess’ way.”

A few stars began to burn in the night sky.

“Nor is lying.”

Sylzenya closed her eyes, begging the cut on her back to cease burning.

“My parents gave me to the temple out of love and duty.”

“And yet, pain does not go unnoticed,” the High One replied, his hands behind his back as he stared at the pond. “It is meant to be felt. It’s the price for life, and it aids you. Feel it, let it be with you, and you’ll find greatness.”

Crickets and the croak of frogs bathed the night air.

“Is that how you found greatness, Your Grace?”

He stared into the sky, a small silence spanning between them.

“Was it not you who told me you were going to become Estea’s greatest Kreena one day?” he inquired.

Sylzenya’s lips thinned. “The words of a child.”

“The dream of a goddess.”

She turned to him, his yellow eyes glowing as bright as the orodyte.

“And so you shall be one, Sylzenya,” he said, eyes lost in the burning stars, “You’ll be the goddess this kingdom has needed for centuries. By my side, we will see Estea survive this famine. Together, this land will become as great as it once was.”